


Substitute

by MistressKat



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Dildos, F/M, Ficlet, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:35:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21635956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressKat/pseuds/MistressKat
Summary: He wishes he didn't have to do the work, imagines what it would be like to just be tied down and stretched open, for someone else to be forcing the toy inside him, inch by inch until he was choking from it.
Relationships: Pete Wentz/Reader's Choice implied
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13





	Substitute

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pushkin666](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pushkin666/gifts).



> About a month ago I drunk!wrote some things, including this response to pushkin666’s prompt of ‘Pete and dildo’. This tidied just a little bit from that. If you spot any major mistakes, do let me know.

It's bigger than him, bigger than any real dick Pete has ever seen, sucked, been fucked by, but oh god he wants it bad, wants to feel it pushing him open, until he's gaping and sobbing, so fucking greedy, greedy for it. He's wet just from the thought, sweat springing up all over his body, his nipples hard as pebbles, salt on his tongue where he keeps licking his lips, the pads of his own fingers. His cock is heavy and dripping, pre-come smearing over the bartskull in a way that is just obscene enough to make him blush, as if despite everything he's done, everything he's about to do, this is the one thing that still makes him bashful.   
  
He's shaking, little _ngh, ngh, ngh_ sounds escaping the back of his throat as he coats the dildo with lube, both hands wrapped around the girth of it, fingers catching on every bump. He stretched himself first, fucking himself with all four fingers, body twisted awkwardly, shoulder joints screaming, his fingers nowhere near enough, but better than nothing.   
  
When he lowers himself to the dildo, the burn of it makes him keen, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, falling down his cheeks in a grey smear of mascara and sweat. He wishes he didn't have to do the work, imagines what it would be like to just be tied down and stretched open, for someone else to be forcing the toy inside him, inch by inch until he was choking from it. He imagines himself on all fours, chained down, ass pressed against cage bars and begging for it.   
  
When he bottoms out, he has to stop for a minute to just breathe. When he finally can move again, it takes nothing but a minute rising and lowering for his cock to twitch, just a few desperate rocking motions, his body gracelessly stuttering between the dildo and his own hand until he's coming, so full, stuffed to the brim and spilling right over in a long hitching groan that sounds like a name, but isn't, isn't. Pete bites on the syllables until he tastes blood, shaking in the aftershocks and already wanting more, always more.


End file.
